


In A Million Years

by seblaiens



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Pregnancy, but only discussion of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 10:45:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7637104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/seblaiens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ill-placed joke leads to some relationship discussion Chloe did not intend for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Million Years

Harry stops the car in front of his apartment, unlocking the electronic doors before raising his eyebrows at Chloe. She looks back at him, as he’s not turning off the motor or making any indication of getting out himself.

“You gonna get out, or what? You’ve got a key, right?”

“Got plans without me?” Chloe asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest and cocking her head at Harry. “Should I be jealous?”

“Absolutely. The woman I’m meeting is about 60 years old and a stone cold fox.”

“You’re dropping me off to visit your mother? What, are you embarrassed to show me off?” Chloe tries to laugh it off, but the fact that it didn’t even cross Harry’s mind to take her with him stings a little. Just a little. Barely there.

_Okay_ , it is pretty hurtful, as they’ve been dating for a little over three months, and Harry’s parents only live about twenty minutes outside of London. He could have at least introduced her by now, if he’s as serious about this relationship as he tells her he is.

“I didn’t think you’d want to meet her,” Harry says, a little surprised. He wouldn’t have Chloe pegged for the girl who wants to meet her significant other’s family.

“Well, I’d love to meet the reason for you personality issues.”

“Hurtful. But alright.”

Harry turns on the blinker at pulls out of his parking spot. They’re quiet on the way to his parent’s house, and Chloe gets more and more nervous with each mile closer to their destination. She begins to really regret her decision when Harry pulls into the driveway of a tiny, red brick house, leaning over to kiss her after unbuckling his seat belt.

“This was your decision, not mine,” he reminds her before getting out of the car, walking around it to open her door. She rolls her eyes at the gesture, but can’t keep the smile of her face. He tries so hard.

They’re both nervous; she can tell by the way Harry fidgets next to her as he presses the door bell, how his fingers twitch to his jeans pocket where he keeps his cigarette packet. He refrains from smoking though, has the whole day, and it suddenly makes a lot more sense.

The door opens to a small, wrinkly, old lady. She guesses she shouldn’t have been surprised that Harry’s mother is well into her sixties already; he’s almost forty, after all.

“Oh Harry, nice o’ you to come by,” she smiles up at her son, and Harry leans down to give her a hug and kiss on the cheek. Chloe suppresses another smile; she’s got the thickest cockney accent she’s heard yet. Chloe has no idea where Harry has his posh accent from, if he actively tried to get rid of the cockney or just never got into it. She’ll have to ask him about it later.

“Afternoon, mum,” Harry says, and puts an arm on the small of Chloe’s back, “this is Chloe, my girlfriend. Chloe, this is my mother, Rosie.”

“Hi,” Chloe says, her voice coming out a little squeaky as she shakes Rosie’s hand. She sheepishly wipes her hand on her pants afterwards, embarrassed by how wet her palms are.

“Come in,” Rosie says, waving them inside. They take off their shoes at the entrance, and Harry presses another quick kiss to Chloe’s lips before they follow his mother into the kitchen. Chloe suppresses a grin when she sees that she’s preparing some tea for them, and sits down next to Harry at the table.

“Your dad’s out with the lads,” Rosie says as she turns on the kettle.

“Day drinking again?”

“Some soccer match is going on, you know I have no clue about that.” Rosie shakes her head and sits down with them. Chloe takes a closer look at her, her blue eyes and almost completely gray hair. She thinks she might have been blonde or a red head.

“So Chloe, where’re you from?” Rosie asks, smiling at Chloe. “You don’t sound English.”

“Uhm, I’m from Australia. Gold Coast,” she trails off, uncertain if she should keep talking. She’s never done this parents thing before, and she looks at Harry, searching for help she knows he won’t be. “I moved to London a few months ago.”

“I sure hope not for him, he’s not worth it,” Rosie laughs and Harry rolls his eyes.

“Jolly thanks, mum, pleased that you’re proud of me.”

Rosie laughs tiredly as she gets up and sets up their tea, bringing milk and sugar to the table for Chloe, since she doesn’t know how she likes her tea. She watches as Harry pours himself a generous amount of milk (and he really shouldn’t do that, she realizes. He’ll complain about stomach pains because of his lactose intolerance in the evening again), while Rosie drinks her tea without anything added. Chloe just decides to add a bit of sugar.

Chloe listens as Rosie talks about her life, about Harry’s father, Steve, and about her friends. She’s mostly quiet until Harry excuses himself from the table, saying that he has to search something that belongs to him in the attic. Chloe stays, staring at her mug as Rosie looks at her expectantly.

“Does he still smoke?”

“Oh,” Chloe laughs, “yeah, like a mad man.”

Rosie clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “You don’t?”

“Never have, never will. You know the whole staying healthy while pregnant thing,” Chloe jokes, knowing immediately she fucked up when Rosie raises her eyebrows. “Not that I am! Just a joke. Not even planning on it, any time soon. I mean- Excuse me.”

Chloe leaves the table with a face as red as fire truck, rushing upstairs to where she saw Harry disappear to. She finds the ladder to the attic, and Harry is there, going through the contents of a box on the floor.

“We have to go. I might have told your mum I’m pregnant. I don’t know why I said that. I’m not.”

Harry looks up at her, dumbstruck.

“How does that even come up in conversation?”

“I was trying to be funny.”

Harry looks at her flat stomach, and Chloe crosses her arms in front of her body.

“You sure you’re not?”

“Do I _look_ like it?”

“You _were_ throwing up Sunday morning.”

“I also chugged beer the night before! I wouldn’t do that to our non-existent child.”

Harry rifles through the papers in the box, pulling out the last one he was searching and stacking it with the others. His heart rate hasn’t quite calmed down from the little existential crisis he just had - the thought of a sodding _baby_ in his life had literally made his knees weak. He hoped Chloe hadn’t seen that he had to hold onto the box to not fall over in shock.

They make their way downstairs, and Rosie even gives Chloe a short hug when they say their good-bye’s at the door, even though Chloe still dies when she looks the other woman in the eye.

 

That night, they’re lying next to each other in bed after having sex, Chloe’s face pressed against Harry’s bicep as he’s smoking (with the window open. A compromise only applying to post coitus cigarettes) when Harry broaches the subject again.

“I’d have to stop smoking if I knocked you up.”

“Well, good thing I’m not pregnant.”

Harry huffs out a laugh and takes a drag of his cigarette, his mind wandering off.

“It’s kind of hot, though,” Harry breathes out the smoke, watching it circle in the air before disappearing, “the thought of me knocking you up.”

Chloe grimaces.

“Not really.”

“Ah, love, don’t wanna carry my seed?”

“That’s disgusting.”

“No kids then,” Harry says trying to not sound disappointed. He’s always seen at least one kid in his future, but he had given up on that dream a long time ago, when he turned thirty-five and still wasn’t married. The window had kind off just… _passed_.

“Not in a million years.”

“Hm,” Harry hums. He stubs out the cigarette in the ash tray before turning towards Chloe, kissing her and grabbing her ass, letting his fingers slide between her legs where she’s still wet and warm. “Would be a shame to destroy this body, anyway.”

“Glad we see eye to eye on this one.”

He’ll get here there one day, Harry decides.

And even if not, they can still get a puppy.


End file.
